


Vivienne (Interlude One)

by therutherfordwife



Series: The Ailynn Lavellan Series [2]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Clothes, Cullen is tongue tied, F/M, Herald in a dress, One-Shot, Vivienne is a fashion queen, series interlude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:38:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5600008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therutherfordwife/pseuds/therutherfordwife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Herald needs help with clothes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vivienne (Interlude One)

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm indecisive as fuck, apparently, and I just decided to change things up again. Going to be doing Ailynn's story all in one long thing, in What Lies Where Sight Denies, and the other parts of the series are going to be drabbles and such from other people's pov. Also, today is Saturday and I am currently NOT sleep deprived and so you will get a drabble and possibly a chapter if I can keep myself from being incredibly distracted by tumblr and youtube (so . . . much . . . distraction!). Thank you all for all the kudos and comments! *huge hug*

The Herald of Andraste was not what she had expected. Granted, she hadn't quite been sure what to expect, but this exceptionally strange elf was exceptionally . . . strange. 

"What about this one? What color is it?" Ailynn lifted yet another set of leggings from the chest beside her bed, holding it aloft for Vivienne to get a good view. Clothes were strewn haphazardly about the room, tunics and blouses and skirts overlapping undergarments and shoes. When she'd realized that the Herald was severely lacking in fine attire, she had taken it upon herself to remedy the dire wardrobe situation and had immediately sent for an array of clothing from her tailor in Val Royeaux. The result was the chaos before her; but she couldn't help but smile softly at the endearingly enthusiastic little elf as she whisked her way through every garment, demanding descriptions and softly rubbing the materials through her fingers.

"The leggings are blue, my dear." 

"Like the sky?" Ailynn's face was lit with wonder.

"Not quite, darling; like the ocean. Deep, dark, and full of mystery." She could practically see the thoughts turning in Ailynn's mind, as the girl recalled her trip across the Waking Sea and imagined the vastness of the saltwater contained in the easy folds of a pair of pants. 

"Would they go with that silver tunic I pulled out earlier?" Without waiting for an answer, her hands scrambled about, grabbing and releasing items around her until she found the warm cotton that Vivienne had said was silver like the metal of her daggers.

Vivienne gave a thoughtful hum, considering the outfit carefully. "Yes, I do believe they suit each other. But you will need a belt. Blue, to match the leggings . . . I will have Josephine send to my tailor immediately." She watched with mild curiosity as Ailynn gently folded the tunic over the leggings, setting the matched set to her left before reaching once more into the trunk. Vivienne was delighted to have such unrestricted access to Ailynn; after all, if she was going to insert herself right in the center of world-changing events, she might as well try to get as close to the source as possible. That the girl was utterly enchanting was . . . an unexpected benefit.

The journey from Val Royeaux to Haven had been positively fascinating. Vivienne had known instantly upon meeting the Herald that this was a woman who was not content to wait on the sidelines, and had recognized in the girl a younger version of herself; someone who would fight tooth and nail for recognition. Their motivations might be different, but neither wanted to be left behind by history's inexorable march. Vivienne had taken to chatting each morning with the sarcastically charming Dalish girl, and had been surprised when the girl had taken to her as easily as she did; she was not referred to as the Iron Lady for nothing. But the sheer force of will, the strange exuberance that emanated from Ailynn had warmed her iron heart, and when Ailynn had confessed an adoration for fashion and matching clothes, she had been delighted to share with the girl all her expertise.

"What about this? I can't . . . I have no idea what these are." Ailynn's hands twisted and pulled the fabric, trying to make sense of its many appendages and seams. A few days ago, Vivienne would have looked at the Herald as she was now, puzzled and irritated, and felt nothing but pity. Now, however, she knew the tenacity behind that questioning visage, the deep blue eyes that always looked a thousand miles away. Wisps of black hair drifted in front of her face, and Vivienne had to suppress the urge to capture the stray strands and return them to their proper place in Ailynn's customary braid.

"That, my dear, is a dress." 

"Why's it got so many . . . extra bits?" 

"Here, allow me." Vivienne lifted the garment from Ailynn's hands, pulling her to her feet. "Strip, please. This will be easier to understand if you wear it." She watched as Ailynn did as she requested without hesitation, anticipation coloring her cheeks with a rosy tinge. Oh, to be young again. The sheer enjoyment of dressing highly simply to look beautiful, instead of endlessly trying to make bold statements that would go right over the heads of most people . . . Indeed, it was a much simpler time. She helped pull the dress over Ailynn's head, chuckling softly to herself as the girl got tangled in every hole, the dress having many. It was made specifically for court, in the event that the Herald of Andraste chose to appear in high society. The gown was a made of a rich green, deep as emeralds where it curled around her neck, the color fading to the brilliant green of the brightest birds in the Arbor Wilds as the soft silk cascaded down her waist in easy waves of fabric. Seams of gold crossed the dress in an seemingly endless pattern that spilled down from the small of her back, giving her the impression of being a bird bedecked in gold waiting to soar through the sky as if weightless and totally free. Vivienne carefully arranged the skirt, then moved her sure fingers into Ailynn's hair.

"Vivienne, what-"

"Hush, child. Never question the artist." She flicked strands of hair every which way, hands never hesitating to arrange the dark hair _just so_ on top of Ailynn's head. She could feel Ailynn twitching impatiently beneath her fingers, and thought with momentary pity that this was probably the first time the girl had ever been fussed over in such a way. What must it be like, to live in a world one could not make perfect sense of, being cast aside by her people for her disability? To never have anyone tell her of her beauty, to never be pursued as a woman should . . . To never meet her lover's eyes, and disappear for a moment in the perfection of another's gaze? _Bastien would love to meet so delicate a creature as this,_ Vivienne thought fondly. _He always did want his own little dark haired bird._ A shame his own children had all turned as fair as their mother. Bastien had a fondness for dark haired beauties. 

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. With a sigh of frustration, she carefully settled Ailynn's hair for a moment. "Do not even consider moving one inch, darling, or I will freeze you where you stand." Ailynn huffed, but dutifully kept herself still, no doubt recalling the events at Bastien's estate. Vivienne crossed the room with sure steps, pulling the door open just as a hand was being raised to knock again. "Yes, Commander? How can we be of assistance?"

Cullen hesitated for a moment, surprise obvious on his face at seeing Vivienne in the Herald's cabin. However, much to Vivienne's approval, he gave a small bow. "My lady, I was just searching for the Herald. Is she-"

"I'm right here, Cullen." 

Vivienne avidly wished she could encapsulate the ex-Templar's expression in words that Ailynn would understand. As it was, she merely raised an eyebrow at the blush that rose in his cheeks once he caught sight of Ailynn where she stood in the center of the clothes storm, hair half done and a dress fit for Halamshiral itself. _Oh, this is precious,_ she gloated to herself. _The Commander and the Herald? How very fairy tale. And she can't even see it!_ "Have a care as you come in, Commander, and try not to trod on any of the garments." She eyed the man once more before returning to her previous ministrations to Ailynn's hair.

"Did you have something you needed to talk about, Cullen?" Ailynn's voice was slightly strained as Vivienne tugged sharply at her scalp. "Or did you just come to witness my torture?"

"Torture? After all I'm doing for you, and you call this torture?" 

Ailynn winced. "Well, perhaps torture is a strong word. But does there need to be so much pulling? No one's _ever_ touched my hair like this. Are you sure you're not pulling it all out?" 

"Quite sure, darling. Just a few moments and I'll be done."

Cullen watched them with a small smile. It tugged at the scar across his lips in a most appealing manner, Vivienne noted absently. Ailynn would probably approve . . . Well. "I've just come to tell you that we . . . That is, Bull, Varric, Sera and I, were going to be having a bit of a card game in the tavern this evening." He cleared his throat, eyes roving over the Herald's emerald-clad body before glancing at Vivienne and blushing furiously. "I was-that is, we were hoping you would join us." Maker, was he actually shuffling his feet? Such a schoolboy. She would have to have a chat with him about presentation. No doubt Ailynn could hear his toes scuffle on the floor, though the hand at the back of his neck was probably safe. For now.

Vivienne could see Ailynn's shoulders tense, the gown shifting ever so slightly across her shoulders. "As much as I would love to, Commander, I'm afraid I'll have to pass. Cards and I don't exactly get along, you see." Vivienne didn't even hesitate.

"No doubt they will be playing with teams, my dear. You shall be able to join the fun with little problem, of course." She gave the commander a stern look, barring any arguments. From the look of sheer relief he gave her, she expected that none had actually thought about how the girl was supposed to play the game with them on her own. Ailynn relaxed marginally.

"If that is the case, then I would love to join you all. After dinner?" 

"Yes. Should I-"

"That would be lovely, thank you. And Cullen?" 

"Yes?" He paused with his hand on the door frame as he was about to step back into the cool air, looking over his fur lined cloak at the Herald.

"What do you think of this dress?" Vivienne grinned almost maliciously at the man as he turned even redder than before, stammering as he tried to find the proper words. Ailynn wilted slightly as his answer tied his tongue, and Vivienne shot him a glare that clearly spoke of death should he not find kind words immediately.

"It's-Well, I, um . . ." He took a deep breath, hand clenched so tightly on the door frame Vivienne wondered that he didn't split the wood with his fingers. "You look . . . mesmerizing." And with that he practically bolted out the door.

Vivienne gave a throaty chuckle. "I do believe our precious Commander is somewhat smitten with you, my dear." She made one last adjustment to Ailynn's hair, and moved around to get a look from the front. To her surprise, silent tears slipped down Ailynn's cheeks, falling softly on the floor between them. "Why, whatever is the matter? Are you hurt?" She grasped Ailynn's hands, stroking them gently with her thumbs. "Tell me what is going on in your head, darling."

Ailynn's shoulders trembled as she opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the words that eluded her. "How could he . . . Tell me, you saw his face. Was he . . . Did he mean what he said? Am I really . . . _mesmerizing?"_

Vivienne brought a soft hand up to cup Ailynn's tanned cheek, gently brushing away the tears with her thumbs. "If you could only have seen his face. I can assure you, had he meant his words any more, the very ground would have shook with assurance." Ailynn gave a small choked gasp, and Vivienne's iron heart melted at that broken sound. She spoke once more, her voice oddly hushed. "If only you could see how beautiful you are. If only your _clan_ had been willing to tell you. Darling believe me; you are utterly ravishing, and nothing you have done, no amount of clumsiness or awkwardness, will ever change the fact that you are a singularly unique and incredible woman in your own right. And if you don't believe me, then listen closely to our dear Commander tonight during the game. Listen to how he speaks to you, and how he speaks to others. You might not be able to see, but you can hear his thoughts in the way he shapes his words if you take care to listen hard enough." At this, Ailynn let out a sob and practically fell against Vivienne's chest, clutching the mage tightly until her crying ceased to wrack her entire body as Vivienne rubbed her back and crooned comforting words. Often growing up Vivienne had yearned for a child; her circumstances had seen fit to forbid such family from her life, but there was no law that said a child had to be of your blood. She found that she wanted not only to bear witness to the actions of the Herald of Andraste; she wanted to give aid to this fascinating Dalish woman-child, wholeheartedly and without reservation. 

Unexpected. Indeed.


End file.
